View the Winners | View Poems by School Round 1 Choose one: Imagine you've been blindfolded and taken to some strange location. Visualize what this strange place might look like. Is it indoors or out? Cold, or hot, or mild? What colors, sounds, objects, people, animals, etc. do you experience there? What does this strange landscape reveal to you about life, the earth, people, etc? Describe how someone you love looks. Refrain from using words like "beautiful," "handsome," "cute," etc. Use their appearance as a springboard for expressing something deeper that you feel about them. Look at a work of visual art-painting, print, sculpture, photo, etc.-and describe what you see. Don't use words such as "like," "good," "weird," etc. Spend a few moments taking an inventory of what is there and describe it. This will give you a pretty good idea of the artist's intentions; comment upon them as well. If possible, go to a museum, gallery, someone's home or studio to look at the work of art. Calm yourself by taking a few deep breaths and relaxing. Christians Breaking Glass R.U.F., fire in a barrel Christians breaking Glass, Republicans giving out pins. Exploding spraycans in the distance, Marijuana in Trench Town, Laughing at the stars. Cold feelings, and deadly fumes. No beer or alchohol, thats odd. There are trees, but thats not stopping anyone. falling debris from an old house. Cristians breaking Glass, Christians finding friends. R.U.F. finding followers, fellowship is destruction. Christian music and destruction. Dodging tomatoes, and cake. No police, there is no stopping Christians. Drunk on violence, and there is a magician. Fumes and paint. Christians breaking glass turn the other cheek. -Nicholas Angelo, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 10.00) Read Reviews of this Poem Kyra's Poem Her face was like a page of crumpled song lyrics wasted poetry and lines creasing uniformly the years woven into a song without rhythm her words trying for depth but ending crushed one into the other a meaningless frustrated mess she always tried to dream but got caught in the beach towel tangle of sandy hot reality so she just buried her face in the latest novel of what she wouldn't become and all those lyrics and deep meanings were lost in an avalanche of crushed paper. -Kyra, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 10.00) Read Reviews of this Poem Loren's Poem She has the face that would disappear in a streetcorner crowd- Emotionless and pale, her lips without shape or idea. She stands perfectly still Unphazed by the everchanging And evermilling rush. Her dark coat doesn't dance in the wind. Night and day mesh, Her image changes but she doesn't age. Neither does the featureless crowd, which will always wear her face. -Loren, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 10.00) Read Reviews of this Poem New World I cough from the dust of the burlap sack When the lead-man stops the line goes slack The vessel creaks beneath my feet But now we drive on, through the stinging sleet I can feel the sting Of the taskmaster’s ring When his hand hits my back Because I tripped on a crack I smell the rain, on the tip of my nose The sack goes awry, a bit of light shows Now we enter a boat, adrift on the sea Then we’re shuttled to land, our new home to be I can feel the sand, as it slips through my toes We walk over the dunes, past the highs and the lows On the way to the future, I took what they gave I got a new name; now I’m just “slave” -Geoff Phillips, Socorro High School (Rating: 10.00) Read Reviews of this Poem Day-Glo Ballerina She stands like a Mexican Jumping Bean with bony hips holding up muddy bellbottoms Head bobbing like a dashboard Chihuahua Her face, a strawberry red and seedy Her eyes, large green and scared Her hair a hot pink nest Like a day-glo ballerina, She spins out of control A purple pill to make her happy A white pill to make her still She sits again with me and I know I look too concerned Because I am sick of listening But I use the mask and I squeeze her hand and listen to her tears roll down her pink cheek and I watch her words flow at sloth speed and I let my shoulders drop and I hold her close I know she needs to be sad I don't bother to try and make her happy I just allow her to drown, slowly For its her springboard which she needs To keep going and she dives into her own insanity Where she feels comfortable, Wallowing in her sorrow -Olivia, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 9.80) Read Reviews of this Poem An Anti-Hero's Prevailing Eyes Prevailing, really The expression he wears upon his face Every day for everything and everyone And his stance An anti-hero's stance That brings out a maternal nature inside me Hurling commands like, "Stand up straight!" And I won't decide for now Whether to admire or despise him For this unnecessary confusion he presents To others, especially myself And I've looked upon his features With the focus and objectivity I've given to a stranger Their lack of imperfections And I wonder Is this the face of a faithful companion Or that of cheater As I've read in certain articles But in the basement of my mind I have an understanding of his loyalty Yes, this allows me to accept him Despite his warm complexion, dark eyes And the luminosity of his smile -Amanda Navarro, St. Pius X -Albuquerque (Rating: 9.30) Read Reviews of this Poem Home This chimerical landscape washes over me like a gray reality; Faint whisps of earth and exotic spices swirl into my nostrils and I run my hands through rough particles which chafe my hands and scurry beneath my fingernails. Stiff, scorching,and suffocating heat; the fires of hell burning all around me. With a fleeting gust, I taste dirt between my teeth, under my tongue. Rough, scaly creatures lace around my feet as my skin trembles with fear. Only a miserable howl permeates my ears. Alone, stripped hollow, lost in hell. Vision restored, it is my home before me. Yet I am still afraid. -Christi Stack, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 9.00) Read Reviews of this Poem This is My Brother Face pale and pasty, His eyes wander like a solemn leaf Caught in a gentle breeze. Brown and white bandages distort his visage As does his pained grimace. "He's still at risk of falling into a coma, so Keep an eye on him." A sobering task. I blow my nose, a luxury he isn't provided. I sit and think, a comfort stolen from him. My head lies so low that my tears Drip from my eyebrows. One settles on my pants and rests As an ephemeral diamond, Then fades into the fabric. The clock ticks slowly. Its music passes by my ears As unnoticed as the orbs of love That fall from my face. His arm rests useless at his side, one finger bent unnaturally. This is the person I have aspired to and loved my whole life. Gasping from around the straw, This is the boy who cried to leave my side so long ago. As he lies useless in my old bed, I stand above my mentor. -Brendan Shaughnessy, Onate High School (Rating: 9.00) Read Reviews of this Poem Reflected In Her Through her eyes Waves crash like intellectuals The sunrise is warm against my face I can feel fate in the distance A feather in the wind of the sky that floats on the surface of the ocean The iris, the retina You can see reckless freedom I feel the hair on the back of my neck her eyes gleam through deep breath, pulse, tremble like sunlight through the cold The feather dances in leaps of faith off of rational air Do you remember when you came to my door that day in elementary school? It was reflected in her eyes, soft and free, before they filled with tears and I ran away to cry Now I see her stare and don't think much, like a child chasing a feather in the wind -Dylan, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 9.00) Read Reviews of this Poem My perception I picture the cold wind upon my skin, To be sweet with a warmth, That settles an upset tummy. The sounds of chaos are actually A love ones laughter Who has just been tickled by my hair upon his nose. There is no asphalt, There is no dirt, There is no hard wall beneath me. Instead, alfalfa pokes underneath my clean skin Which I roll in as a colt would. Blood and oil are taken from my mouth And put aside, So a sweet kiss And melting chocolate Can rest upon my tongue. I perceive doves and rain drops Flying through the air In a soft mixture of Sound a feeling, Instead of them foreshadowing a Disaster of my fate. I am free in my new world So I will stay And not return To the house of pain. -Alex Rhoads, Socorro High School (Rating: 9.00) Read Reviews of this Poem Claudia's Poem I always think of a flamingo dancer when I look at her. Of red layers of silk twirling around her ankles. She looks nothing like a dancer, her wheat colored curls tucked under the cotton hood of her Gap sweatshirt. She always has a little smirk on her face, like she knows something i don't. Should that bother me? But somehow that little mocking smile gives me a little comfort, and the fact that she understands more than I do makes me feel safe. She walks with a purpose but no destination, usually looking at the ground a few feet ahead of her. She looks like everyone else, with her jeans and fitted t- shirts. the only reminder of the flamingo dancer is the trinkling sound of her anklet following her wherever she goes. Under the denim and white socks, the little beads hit against each other, making a little exotic sound I can almost see the red silk if i look close enough. -Claudia, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 8.80) Read Reviews of this Poem "I love your eyes . . . " I love your eyes that shine in the sunlight, I love the way you hold me tight late at night. I love your height and your dress style because that is something to think about for a while. I love the smell of your cologne, inhaling deeply, wishing I was sleeping, without weeping. I love your voice so soft and clear always wishing you can be near. I like the way you smile. You know I don't want to be apart further than a mile. I like the way your body feels, just looking at you gives me chills. I like the way your kiss tastes. Everyone will know you left your trace. I know you're fine and you never whine. So tell me you'll always be mine. -Anna Becenti, Ft. Wingate Bia School (Rating: 8.50) Read Reviews of this Poem Athena, the Spirit not Goddess She floats to me on a cool breeze. She drifts to me like a gentle song I can't remember. I see her as a backdrop to the sun rising, traveling across the heavens. My beloved with her ash blond hair, touches the gentle facets of my mind. She sees through me as if I were a window to a green and fertile landscape. She is my "shaycref ashk'e," the one who I am bonded to, the spirit of my life. When I gaze into her gray eyes I see myself reflected. And when she spreads her wings and flies, her song floats to me. -Bruce Pfeiffer, Onate High School (Rating: 8.40) Read Reviews of this Poem Glass Raindrop I sit silently--head between knees--inside my glass ball, A perfect glass ball except for the pinch at the top. I sit inside my raindrop. It's bitter everywhere, I'm surrounded by frost, Detained by my glass raindrop. I wish to be boundless; to break free of my icy prison, But there is only one way out. Should my glass ball shatter on the damp pavement, I shall shatter too. And so for an instant, I plummet down to the world Inside my raindrop. And while I take this short journey above the world, I cannot look out to the beauty of its scenery. I don't see the other figures, huddled in raindrops, With thoughts of blatant concern, like mine. They don't see me. We all brace ourselves for the end of the the voyage, A conclusion long awaited, won't arrive soon enough, Sudden and painless As a shining drop of dew upon a silken petal, Instead of a windshield annoyance. We expect the worst, and we sit here in the agony of our prolonged wait: This one drawn-out moment. And as the sun reflects through the tiny beads of glass Holding their bundles of fear, It creates a beautiful portrait of color dancing in the sky. How foolish we are not to see the wonderful spectacle, created by our life. For if our heads are forever downward, we will never see Our sparkle in the rainbow. -Sarah Brown, Onate High School (Rating: 8.30) Read Reviews of this Poem Photographic Memory Closing my eyes I see the black. It swallows me. Slowly, shapes form, Outlines become visible. Colors splashed on a canvas Become the base of my world. Crawling to their purpose The colors fulfill their meaning. Trees, grass, clouds, are surreal. My friends fill the empty shadows. They are a comfort. I smell their familiar scent, As the wind blows as though cued. Without thinking I run towards a figure. Quickly, yet delicately, He swings me around. I look up briefly At the face of my friend. From behind him All my close friends appear. I feel reborn. Reborn to a nation That hosts a cool breeze, Refreshing my soul. My world is made up of many colors. Three stand out; Red for Love Blue for Innocence Purple for Victory. A friend hands me a flower Picked from the many That are now springing forth. Inhaling the sweet perfume, I taste the honeysuckle That is mingled with lilac. I look up at this moment, Heavy yellow clouds form In the reddish orange sky. Big Lemonade drops Fall from the air, Splashing into a golden river Which surfaces through the earth. We dance, Mad from the rain. I slip and break into laughter. This feeling has got me giddy. CRACK! Lighting strikes Against the perfect sky, Crashing rapidly, It strikes me. I awake In the seclusion of my room. Regaining compsure, I turn my head To the pictures on my desk. I smile at the frozen pieces of time. Slowly I close my eyes, again. -Sofia Marquez, Onate High School (Rating: 8.20) Read Reviews of this Poem Shireen's Poem I look beyond his physical features. The color of his hazel eyes, and his brown hair, his height, his smile doesn't really matter. Sometimes looks can be deceiving. Love is not found on the outside, it is found in the inside. His care giving heart, his passion for perfection, his faith which keeps him strong. His generous love he has to give to everyone. All that matters to me is what's in the inside. It is something that can not be physically seen, and it is an imaginary truth. -Shireen, Santa Fe Preparatory School (Rating: 8.20) Read Reviews of this Poem Observant He silently stands,this guy. Dark hair, broad shoulders, square chin. See not just a glimmering smile, but the tiny indentations at the corners of his smooth lips which deepen with each flash of emotion. See not just his mind reading eyes, but slits in cloth which open to reveal deep pools of blue which engulf me. Look for detail. Search, memorize. Each curve of his arms, each crease in his hands, and the short stubbled hairs of his face which I recall when he's gone. See the lines which form his pants, the way he unbuttons his shirt revealing his collarbone, and the glare of his belt buckle at night. His appearance seen by a stranger with an observant eye. I see a shield protecting what's inside. His heart, his ambition, his pride. His appearance is only the surface of the man I love. -Jamie Ross, Onate High School (Rating: 8.10) Read Reviews of this Poem Untitled She is ivory perfection Cruel immaculate alabaster She walks only in moonlight White beaches black water She still stands out I looked for a person Equal in death and life I only found her Found her seductive light -Richard Harris, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 8.00) Read Reviews of this Poem Untitled The winter fresh air conditioning blew a thick antiseptic smell that cloaked me in anxiety. The smell ate away at my stomach leaving me sick. The muffled and articulate voices came closer and with their cold laytex hand grabbed my own and lead me to a cold, rubbery surface like that of a plastic lawn chair covering in the mist of winter. I sat their stiffly as metal objects clashed together in a threat of fear. The muffled voices crowded above me and began to clean my teeth! -Michelle Mantegna, Las Cruces High School (Rating: 8.00) Read Reviews of this Poem Ultraviolet You radiate A million worlds in a million skies, Somehow contained In the depth of your eyes. And in between, A sloping dream Slides down to the tip of your nose, Just before The corner of lips flow Into a sly, curving smile That reveals nothing, Or maybe something, Underneath the smooth skin, Which is more than I can handle Because it lies within. -Lydia Lopez, St. Pius X -Albuquerque (Rating: 8.00) Read Reviews of this Poem Pages: 1 2 [>>] View the Winners | View Poems by School Webslam Home